Catalyst
by pure2ND
Summary: AU: The F4 can all afford therapy, no doubt, but can one girl change their lives in a way no shrink ever could?
1. Rain Paintings

**A/N**: An AU fiction. Quite a bit of OOC, especially on the part of Tsukushi.  
**Disclaimer** to apply for the entire story: I don't own Hana Yori Dango, though I wish I did.

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**Catalyst**

By pure2ND 

Chapter One: Rain Paintings

She awoke with a start. Careful to keep her eyes closed tightly, she pulled back the covers and carefully but quickly slid her feet into the slippers sitting neatly by the edge of the bed. She swept the space around her with her hands instinctively, even though she had done this many times before.

Sliding her fingertips across the furniture she had arranged into a hallway, she walked purposefully forward. She counted quietly under her breath – fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. Halting directly in front of an easel, she touched the fresh canvas on it for a second and smiled. Pulling a paintbrush from the glass jar on the nearby table, she reached for the palette of oil paints she kept beside the jar.

Without hesitation, she dipped the brush into one color, then the next, sweeping it onto the canvas in broad strokes. She spun the palette skillfully around her thumb, pausing slightly every so often. She didn't bother to rinse the bristles off as if she knew that it didn't matter how the colors mixed. It would be right.

Suddenly she stopped. Her brow furrowed and she tapped the brush against her chin thoughtfully. It sampled one last color and slid across the canvas in a final arc. She placed the palette carefully back on the table and dropped the paintbrush into a waiting cup of water. Tiredly, she pulled a few strands of hair back from her face and slumped back into bed. She sighed, snuggling into the fading warmth her body had left before. Finally, she relaxed her eyelids and saw no more.

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Jesus, what a horrible day, he grumbled to himself. He kicked at the leaves scattered on the sidewalk and cursed his Ferrari's engine for breaking down. Of course, in retrospect, some of it, just a tiny bit, might actually have been his fault. If he hadn't been yelling at his incompetent butler on his cell phone, he might not have accidentally put that disgusting, cheap gas into his car. And perhaps, considering he _knew_ he didn't have the proper fuel for his car, he shouldn't have been street racing. But the butler really was incompetent and that bastard issued the challenge first and he just couldn't back down, especially since the guy was only driving a pathetic Audi.

Looking up from his assault on the fallen leaves, he scowled at the darkening sky. He touched his hair gently, wondering how long the mousse and spray would hold up under rain and when the clouds would finally burst.

And suddenly, they did. Exploding in a crackle of thunder, drops pummeled the arms sheltering his head. He swore, remembering his watch wasn't waterproof and quickly lowered his arms. He swore again, this time remembering his fragile, finely sculpted hairstyle. Swiftly, he slid the watch off his wrist, raised his arms again, and sprinted for the nearest bit of shelter. His leaps across great puddles would have made any Olympic hurdler proud. Panting heavily, he ducked under an overhanging roof and rested his hands on his knees. When he finally regained his breath, he straightened and looked around him.

A girl sat nearby, leaning against the brick wall and staring out at the sheets of rain that collapsed everywhere. She was dressed in a baggy long-sleeved shirt and jeans with a rip in the knee. Her hair was gathered into a neat ponytail and tied with a bit of string. Her knees were tucked close to her body and she gripped a plain, brown paper package, balancing it on her sneakers and pressing it to her shins.

He wrinkled his nose in disgust and inched a little farther away from her. She swiveled slightly at the sound of his shirt scratching across the brick and glanced up at him. A grin blossomed on her face, then quickly disappeared again. She turned back to continue watching the rain.

It's like she knows something about me and it's insanely funny to her, he thought grumpily. Glancing at her again, he noticed the girl's hair and clothes were clean, despite their ragged appearance. Her sneakers too looked like had been scrubbed well. Underneath that mass of black hair, he could see her face was rather pretty too. Leaning closer to her, he noticed a thin bracelet on her left wrist. It looked to have been made of masking tape, and there was something written on it.

Without realizing it, he had been steadily moving closer to the girl. He was, in fact, nearly upon her in his curiosity to read what was lettered upon the tape bracelet. She looked up to see him staring at her wrist and quickly pulled her sleeve to cover it. He blinked, startled, and his cheeks flushed. She laughed quietly and patted the area of cement next to her. He frowned, suspicion evident in his expression. The girl smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. "It's okay. I just want to show you something."

Slowly, he sat down next to her. "What? What is it?" She slid her package into his lap. He looked at her, confused. "What's this?"

"Open it."

Slowly, he unfolded the brown paper. It crackled as he held it out to her. She took it and folded it into a square that she tucked into her jean pocket. Nodding at him, she motioned for him to look at what had been inside the paper. It was a wooden frame and something had been stretched across the back of it. White fabric, it seemed. "Am I supposed to be amazed?" He asked sarcastically.

She laughed again, high and ringing. "Flip it over."

He did so, and understood. It was a painting. Quite ugly actually, he thought. Too many random splotches of color and right in the middle, a bold streak of red crossed it diagonally. And yet…he couldn't help stroking the ridges formed by the paint. Running his hands across the canvas, he returned again and again to that red slash. Finally, he remembered the girl and looked at her. "How much?"

"How much do you have with you?"

"I can give you anything for this. I have a bunch of credit cards – if you take those."

She shook her head and smiled. "Cash is better."

"Of course," He slid his wallet out of his pocket and flipped through the bills, counting. "I have a lot here. How much do you want?"

She smiled and reached for the wallet. He hesitated a bit, then handed it over. She looked through it, then said, "Close your eyes and count to ten. When you're done, I'll have taken what I want and you'll have your painting."

"What! My credit cards, my IDs, everything I need is in –"

She placed her fingertips gently on his lips, effectively hushing him. "Trust me."

Sighing, he closed his eyes and began to count. "One…two…" When he was done, he immediately opened his eyes and looked around him. The girl had vanished through the pouring rain without so much as a goodbye, a thank you, or a splash in one the numerous puddles that dotted the sidewalk. His wallet rested on top of the painting in his lap. He pulled the sides apart and looked inside. Everything seemed to be in place. Opening the section where he kept his cash, he frowned. There was still money in there. He slid the stack of bills into his hand and began to count. It was all still there.

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**A/N**: I know, I know, it's confusing and unclear and whatnot, but bear with me please. It should work out.  
Also, I'm a student, so updates probably won't be too frequent, but I'll try to work on it whenever I have time.  
Oh, and I had another account on too, on which I also wrote HYD ff. I abandoned it a long time ago though.  
Guess who? 


	2. Morning Evasions

**A/N:** Thank you to everyone who reviewed! An early Christmas present for you guys!

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**Catalyst**

By pure2ND

Chapter Two: Morning Evasions

3:17. The bold red numbers bore into his eyes as he glanced over the check the alarm clock on his nightstand. His eyelids were getting heavier and slowly, they fluttered shut. His mind, however, wouldn't succumb to the pleasures of sleep. He flipped over onto his stomach in frustration, then pounded the mattress hard once and yelled into the pillow twice. The lack of sleep and sure weariness to come in the morning didn't bother him, even though he had classes later. After all, he could always ditch if he felt like it. It was just…to be accurate, it felt like there was an itch in his mind. Something bothered him, but he just couldn't pinpoint it, and frankly, it was driving him insane.

And suddenly he knew. The girl - he had seen her before. Now that he had realized it, he wondered why it had taken him so long. That face, though wholly unremarkable, was familiar. Had it been at one of those society functions his parents dragged him to? Or had it just been a stranger on the street, giving a different painting to a different person? He slammed his fist into the mattress again, dangerously close to his precious hair. The itch in his mind had intensified. Now that it had had a taste of the mystery, it craved more. It was consuming his thoughts and he could feel a migraine coming on.

He sat up in bed and clutched his head in angry claws, trying to squeeze answers from his tired brain. All he received in return was mussed hair and a sharp pain as he ripped a few strands out. He roared in rage and stumbled out of bed, ripping the door to his room open and slamming it shut behind him. A voice called out anxiously somewhere else in the home, but he ignored its question. He dashed down a hallway and down one of the numerous flights of stairs, tripping once and tumbling down a short way. Thankfully, the plush carpeting prevented any real harm to himself or any of the priceless antiques sitting on tables nearby. Rising again, he cursed loudly and thoroughly and began his flight once more. He winced as he ran across the frigid marble tiles of the foyer. Dancing from one foot to the other, he quickly punched in the security codes that would open the front door. Finally, finally, he rushed outside.

Raising his arms in a wide arc, he tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath of the crisp, cleansing night air. The faint scent of pine trees wafted by, and something smelled a little of hickory – a sign of the encroaching winter months. He opened his eyes, lowered his arms, and began to stroll down the brick pathway. The crunching leaves tickled his bare feet. His fingers were beginning to numb in the chilly breezes, so he tucked them into the pockets of his pajama pants.

"What's wrong?" A soft voice floated out of the darkness somewhere up ahead of him. He jumped, startled, then squinted into the night to find the person who had called him. "No, look for me by opening your eyes."

After a few more futile seconds of squinting and searching, he did. And then he spotted her, the same girl who had given him the painting, strolling nonchalantly toward him. She clutched a wooden box under one arm and it rattled a little as she walked. He strode forward to meet her. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her a little. "Who are you? Why are you here? How'd you know where I live? How do you know who I am? Do you know what time it is? Why aren't you in bed and asleep?"

She shrugged out of his grasp and laughed softly. "Me first. Why are _you_ up so late?"

He frowned, reluctant to give in to this slender wraith of a girl. She didn't flinch under his scrutiny, but instead looked him straight in the eye. Very pretty eyes, he couldn't help noticing. Finally he sighed and relented. "I couldn't sleep. I was thinking about things…business affairs and stuff." He lied quickly when he caught her raised eyebrow. Somehow it would be embarrassing to admit to this stranger that he had been thinking about her. He continued, even though it felt like she already knew what he was going to say. "I thought fresh air could clear my head or something," Finished, he crossed his arms tightly against his chest and rubbed them briskly. It was insanely cold in November. Perhaps he should have put on some shoes or a shirt before he just rampaged out of the house. Silently, she slipped her sweater off and tied it around his shoulders. "No, don't. I don't need this," He tugged at the knot, but it was tightly tied.

She laid a gentle hand on top of his squirming one until he was still. "Follow me. I want to show you something." She vanished into the gloom off to his right without a backward glance to see if he was going to come.

"Wait, where are we going?" He raced after her. "I don't have shoes!"

Her voice rang out, somewhere up ahead of him. "It's not far. I promise."

He didn't see her stop in front of him and collided with her. Instinctively, he reached for her as he fell. She caught his hand and with surprising strength for such a delicate girl, kept him from dropping. He staggered to his feet again. "Thanks."

She smiled at him. "What's the rush?"

"I thought I lost you."

She turned from him and looked at the house, pointing in the direction of his bedroom window. "Look."

He stared. There was a wall, a windowsill, some ivy, a tree. There had to be something special she wanted him to see. Why else would she have led him here? After a few moments of silence, he confessed, "I don't see anything special."

She laughed – amusement lighting her face up. "There's a tree growing in front of your bedroom window. The branches must block your view. How do you see the sun rise and set?"

He considered this for a minute, then admitted truthfully, "I've never really thought about it. Why? Is it that important?"

"Get one of your gardeners to trim it the next time they come around to do your landscaping. You should see the real thing sometime."

"Okay. In the meantime, I'll get up early everyday and come outside to look at the sunrise. Will that make you happy?" He couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or serious. He hoped he sounded sincere.

She seemed to know. She smiled and shooed him toward the front door. "Go back to bed."

He sighed, and for what seemed like the first time in his life and the hundredth time since he had met her, he gave in. And as the warmth of his bed enveloped him once more, he realized she had never answered any of his questions.


	3. Coffee, Chai, Chicks

**Catalyst**

By pure2ND

Chapter Three: Coffee, Chai, Chicks

He yawned widely, hearing his jaw crack in protest. Wearily, he rubbed at the dark circles etched underneath his bleary eyes. He had gotten barely three hours of sleep last night, let alone his usual ten. Maybe he should have just waited for the sunset, instead of getting up so freaking early. Now that he thought about it, he could always skip both altogether. But he had promised, hadn't he? And this one, unlike the others, really mattered.

Slumping down the brick pathway he had walked earlier in the morning, he forced himself to lift his head and look at the still dark sky. God, he needed a latte. He should have checked what time the sun actually rose in November instead of getting up at this ungodly hour. Ah well, he supposed he could always go wake the other F3, so he wouldn't have to suffer alone.

Reaching the end of the pathway, he encountered the heavy steel gate that kept the world at bay and the residents a higher entity. He rolled his eyes as he entered another security code that would allow him to leave. People could be so paranoid. He strolled through the gate, hearing it creak shut behind him. Suddenly, he remembered he had left his cell phone back in his room. Cursing, he turned back to the gate…and froze.

The previous day it had rained, but the walls surrounding the home were still dry, courtesy of the stone ledge running along the top. On the wall on one side of the gate was drawn a sunrise, and on the other side, a sunset. Rays seemed to emanate from the very bricks themselves. Color after color was layered, shaped, smoothed, until the sun itself seemed to be in front of him. The two drawings were distinctly magnificent, yet they were unmistakably a pair.

He walked forward until he was nearly touching the wall with the sunrise. Tentatively, he stroked the clouds, almost believing his fingers would pass right through them. When he lifted his hands away from the brick, the clouds were smudged and his fingers were covered in a smooth white powder. He rubbed them together slowly. "Chalk…" He murmured to himself, realizing what was in the box the girl had been holding the night before.

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"Yo, save me some of that coffee, dude!" Akira strolled across the grass toward the man sitting by himself at one of the cafeteria tables. He ignored the signs warning him not to lay so much as a finger on the grass. Like anyone would stop him.

Tsukasa lowered the cup he had tilted nearly upright in his desire for a caffeine fix. The two exchanged a hand slap by way of greeting and Akira slumped into a chair at the same table. He grabbed one of the numerous cups on the cafeteria table, glanced into it, then tossed it away disgustedly. "Are all these empty? How long you been here?"

Tsukasa shrugged and muttered ambiguously, "Awhile."

Akira frowned at this dour attitude, then brightened when he spotted two other familiar figures headed toward one of the other buildings. "Hey guys! Over here!" He waved at them enthusiastically, and the two men changed direction.

Akira repeated the customary greeting with the two, then immediately began babbling on about his latest conquest to Rui, who merely looked bored. Soujiro extended his hand to Tsukasa to greet him, but Tsukasa seemed not to notice. He kept on rubbing his fingers together and talking to himself under his breath. Soujiro leaned closer to better hear him, while Rui nudged Akira and indicated the other two. Silence followed until Tsukasa finally looked up to see his three friends staring curiously at him. "What the…?" He jerked away from Soujiro. "Dude, back off, okay?"

He shoved his chair back, causing it topple on the floor with a loud crash. Soujiro raised his hands in surrender, "Chill out. What's up with you?" He motioned for Tsukasa to sit down again, and followed suit himself.

Tsukasa leaned his head back and groaned, closing his eyes and rubbing his face tiredly. "Not enough sleep." He made no move to apologize, but the other three weren't expecting one either. Attempts to start up conversation fell flat on their faces, as no one could ignore the faintly snoring Tsukasa.

"Dude, new chick," Whispering conspiratorially, Akira leaned close to Soujiro across the table. He pointed out a girl ambling toward them, one of the first he'd seen actually using the sidewalk. "Over there."

"Hot chick," Soujiro whispered back, letting his eyes roam unabashedly across her body. "Wish she was wearing a mini and heels though. I bet her legs are bangin'."

The girl walked closer, her messenger bag bumping against her thigh with each step. Timing his move perfectly, Soujiro pushed his chair back, trapping her neatly between his chair and one of the next table over. The girl squeaked in surprise. Soujiro, ever the perfect gentleman, turned to look at her, a look of dismay on his face. "I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there!" He pulled his chair back and gave her his most winning grin.

She smiled and said softly, "That's okay." She resumed walking toward the Starbucks in the cafeteria without a backward glance at the four men.

Soujiro gave Akira a confused look. No girl had ever been able to resist his charm before. Akira just laughed. "I guess you're finally losing your mojo."

Soujiro flicked him off. "You wish," He chased after the girl, leaping over chairs in loping strides. "Hey, wait!"

The girl turned to wait for him. Soujiro stopped in front of her and brushed casually at a drop of sweat on his forehead. "I might have crushed something in your bag. Please, let me repay you by buying you a drink."

She leaned close and cupped her hand around his ear. Soujiro grinned toothily, knowing what was coming, and slid his hand down to her behind, pinching it and smiling cheekily to himself. Instead, she whispered, "You're never going to be able to live it down if I don't let you buy me a drink, are you?" Soujiro stared at her, his mouth agape. She grinned broadly, but it looked a little strained. "Chai tea latte, please. And get your hand off my ass before I knee you where the sun don't shine." So that was the reason for the gritted teeth.

Soujiro backed off a little and flushed, a rare sight. "Sorry."

The two strolled toward the Starbucks together, hands innocently held at their sides. No one was at the counter, but Soujiro slapped his hand once, and immediately a barista appeared. "What can I get you two?"

"Chai tea latte for her, and I'll take a large – black," The barista turned to make the drinks, and Soujiro looked down at the girl, who had poked him gently in the side. "What was that for?"

"You drink black coffee?" Her nose was scrunched up, disbelief etched in her eyes. "Isn't that stuff gross?"

He chuckled and tweaked her nose. "I don't insult your chai tea, now do I? I'll give you a sip of my coffee to try if you want."

She grinned and batted his hand away, "No thanks."

"Excuse me sir? Your drinks are ready. I'll charge it to your tab." The barista handed Soujiro the steaming cups and a few napkins, then returned to her trashy romance novel.

The girl reached for her drink and blew carefully to cool it a bit. She smiled up at Soujiro and murmured a quiet thank you.

"No problem. I hope I bump into you again." He winked at her.

The girl laughed, the sound ringing in the empty cafeteria. She nodded at Soujiro, then turned to leave, only to bump into someone else. She nearly spilled the tea latte, but a hand steadied it for her, and the man muttered, "Woah…"

She looked up slowly to see Tsukasa staring at her. She smiled brightly at him, but he didn't return it. Instead, he clenched her wrist tightly. "You woke me up."

She laughed again, twisting out of his grip. "Morning Tsukasa. Enjoy the sunrise?" And then she fled.


End file.
